


Small Miracles

by Nattlys



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Galatea is the only sensible one here, Golden Age, Post-delivery sweetness, Sao you useless romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 09:24:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9065767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nattlys/pseuds/Nattlys
Summary: The Tsarevich was born close to midnight, at 34 weeks. He weighed four pounds, three ounces, and screamed like a banshee.





	

“Artemis.”

“Artemis,” the Tsar repeated, then paused and screwed up his face like a confused child, peering down at the pink and bald thing in his wife’s arms. “Artemis, though, Galatea?”

The Tsarina laughed, exhausted but proud, and nodded. “Artemis. We’ll call him Artemis, Sao. I know that breaks tradition, but— in times like these, I think that’s what we need.”

Galatea rested against the massive pile of pillows on her bed, the infant in her arms— the infant they’ve tried for and hoped for, the baby they’ve all dreamed of, so small, premature but alive— sleeping on peacefully, nestled against her breast. Artemis was a miracle in his own right, but beyond that, the little thing would be the heir of the Constellations themselves.

The Tsar came to sit down on the bed beside her, stroking back her long hair that had fallen out of place in the struggle.

To think, life started so small.

“Artie,” he cooed, pressing kisses first to the corners Tsarina’s lips, then ducking his head down to brush his lips over the newborn’s head. Ten perfect, little fingers, and ten tiny, _teeny_ toes. A mystery to him, but he supposed that’s why he was not a woman; both as an only child and a spoiled, though oft ignored, Tsarevich, Sao did not have much experience with children.

He sat up with a jolt then, smiling so wide the corners of his eyes crinkled up.

“Nightlight! Someone, go bring him in from the hallway, he’s got to meet Artie— he’s got to meet my son—“ Galatea, good natured, rolled her eyes and patted his side.

“ _Our_ son,” the Tsar amended, smiling bashfully (lovestruck and crooked, still such a boy at heart) and kissing her again, and again, and then maybe once more just for good measure. It was what his Tea deserved. The labor had been long, and he knew she must be fighting off sleep with all effort, just to hold their son a little longer.

He was a father—

“ _Loony_ ,” the Tsarina repeated, now pinching at his nose with her free hand. “You’re leaning against my thigh a little much. Darling, I love you, I do, with all my heart, but,” she said pointedly, letting go to pat his cheek with a wry smile, “You’re getting in the way of the nurses.”

The midwife and her nurses, all dressed in the customary starched blue that marked them as Palace medical staff, clucked among themselves and tittered over the royal couple. “Star-crossed,” she muttered, pushing the cart closer to the bed. Artemis was not going to be allowed to go without tending to until they were certain the boy was strong enough to be beyond the Tsar and Tsarina’s purified rooms. That was what the Pookan-made chamber was meant for, an artificial egg shell to protect the ones who hatched too soon. With a few adjustments, it suited Constellan children just fine, dropping the dangers of losing such a fragile life significantly. Head Nurse Sigma fully believed the boy would pull through just fine, though; she’d never heard a creature squall so loudly in all her life.

Besides, the shell had a glass surface Tsarina Galatea could see through and it would stay where it was at her bedside, sheltering the baby within her constant reach. And Dr. Pitchiner would be on call all hours, just in case. (Somehow, she suspected the Tsarina would call Ulloriaq in just to gossip.)

Sigma shooed Tsar Lunanoff away from the bed with a stern look and gently took the infant in her arms, who stretched back towards his mother in his sleep, not certain what to make of the soft scale texture of the Head Nurse’s skin. Tsarina Lunanoff looked uncertain for a moment, but sleep was winning out over the poor dear… The other girls stepped forward to take care of her as Sigma settled the Tsarevich within his temporary cocoon.

“Nightlight can see him tomorrow, once the Tsarina’s had her rest— I delivered you, and you turned out fine,” the Head Nurse reprimanded, shaking a finger at the Tsar. “Out with you, now. Out! She will be fine, just as the Tsarevich will be.”

Secretly, they all knew nobody could keep Sao-Loon away from his wife even if they tried, but it was the thought that counted and _someone_ had to be responsible around here.

Sao had to resist whining out loud at getting dismissed and nearly shoved out the gilded double doors.

“Goodnight, darling— goodnight!” He called over Nurse Sigma’s shoulder. “Goodnight! I love you, and I’ll bring you breakfast in the morning— and Kozmotis will bring Seraphina to visit— I love you! Goodnight!”

Galatea couldn’t help but laugh and blow him kisses at his unceremonious exit.

“I love you _more!_ "

**Author's Note:**

> This is, uh, technically my first time posting any written fic--
> 
> Tsar Lunar Sao-Loon Lunanoff and Tsarina Galatea Lunanoff are my interpretation of MiM's parents, and Tsarevich Lunar Artemis Lunanoff will eventually be the Man in the Moon.
> 
> Dr. Ulloriaq Pitchiner is General Pitchiner's wife and Seraphina's mother.


End file.
